


Nightmare

by MrProphet



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	Nightmare

Across the world, people woke in terror, their dreams shattered by images of violence and destruction. Very few of them made any connection between their nightmares and those of others. Even when couples woke together, they told themselves that the fear of one had somehow disturbed the other, but the truth was far more sinister.

*

Dream of the Endless strode through his domain. All about him the shattered pieces of his realm flew back together, but he knew that he could not content himself with simply repairing the damage. The source was still ahead of him, still moving rapidly through the Dreaming and tearing it apart with every step.

With a flustering of black wings, a raven descended from the darkened sky and settled on his shoulder.

“Have you found her?” Dream asked.

“Yes, Boss,” Matthew replied. “She’s on the outskirts of the Sweet Land.”

“The Sweet Land?” Dream was horrified. “But that’s…”

“Childhood dreams, innocence, fluffy bunnies and happiness,” Matthew agreed. “Yep; she’s gonna make a mess of that.”

Dream gave Matthew a cool look. “No,” he said. “She won’t.” He swirled his white robes tight around himself and vanished, leaving Matthew flailing in midair.

*

Dream reappeared on the borders of the Sweet Land. As Matthew had somewhat disparagingly noted, it was the part of the Dreaming which connected not merely to childhood dreams, but to those dreams of children which conjured a place of warmth and safety and plenty. For this land to be violated could potentially shatter millions of young minds.

From the shadows of the realms surrounding the Sweet Land a maelstrom approached, a whirlwind of destruction which tore at the dream substance everywhere it touched.

Dream moved to stand in the path of the destruction with his hands by his side. The tornado slowed as it approached. Dream saw a flailing mass of hooves and limbs and flashing teeth amid the tempest, but when it drew to a halt not ten feet from him, there was little sign of any such monstrous creature, only a woman with a wild and savage beauty.

“Father!” the Nightmare cried in delight. “They said that you had died. Have you come to dance with me?”

“I am not your father,” Dream said sadly, “and your dance has caused great harm.” He held out his hand to her. “You are sick. Come back with me and be healed.”

The Nightmare threw her head back and gave a wild laugh. “If this is sickness I defy healing? This is what I was made me for, to dance in the shadows and spread panic and madness.”

“Not like this,” Dream insisted. “Not without restraint.”

“You say you are not my father,” she hissed. “Then who are you to rein me in? I am a Nightmare, daughter of Dream, and I shall do as I will!”

She raised her hand and struck Dream upon the shoulder, driving him to his knees. The old Dream had made his Nightmare well and he had made her strong.

The Nightmare traced the line of Dream’s jaw with a long, narrow finger. “And you would stop me?” she mocked. “Watch me dance, for you can not hinder me.” She moved towards the Sweet Land, waves of chaos pouring from her as she began to dance.

“Wait!” Dream called.

The Nightmare paused, but for barely a moment.

“You are strong, and magnificent,” Dream told her. He held out a hand to her. “May I dance with you after all?”

She grinned impulsively. “Of course,” she agreed. She seized his hand and swept him up and spun him around, driving headlong into a frenzied gavotte. Dream’s feet hardly touched the earth of his realm as the Nightmare dragged him along in her dance of destruction.

“Can you feel it?” she demanded. “Can you feel the terror flowing from us?”

“I feel it flow from you,” Dream replied, clutching his partner tightly, “and into me.”

“What?” The Nightmare tried to pull away, but Dream held on, leading the dance now. “No!” she cried. “Please, no!”

“I’m sorry,” Dream said, “but you have to stop.”

“I’ll stop,” she promised him, tears prickling her eyes. “I’ll come back and be healed.”

“I can’t believe that,” Dream told her regretfully.

In moments, her body was as light as a feather in his arms, her strength all fled back into Dream, whence it had come. In moments more, the shreds of her dress had blown away like ashes.

Dream spun to a halt, a last scrap of fabric in his hand. He lifted it to his hand with a sigh and kissed the cloth before letting it flutter free.

A single tear rolled from his eye.


End file.
